A Little Like Tennis
by vierblith
Summary: TezukaFuji. Oneshot: After more than fifteen years of friendship, they discover each other for the first time.


Title: **A Little Like Tennis**  
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji  
Rating: PG 13  
Wordcount: ~4,400  
Summary: After more than fifteen years of friendship, they discover each other for the first time.  
Warning: OCs, possible spoilers  
Disclaimer: I do not own them. They own each other. :3

**A/N:** The idea just occurred to me. I couldn't resist it because the bunny kept growing. I hope you like it, though. Now I need to start Physics -.-

_"They don't know how long it takes  
Waiting for a love like this."_  
– Lucky, Jason Mraz feat. Colbie Caillat

******1.** The moment he entered the living room, Fuji dropped down to the white cushion on the long wooden sofa. It sagged a little from the impact, and he stretched lazily across it, lounging with careless grace against the cushion as if he were in his own apartment. He spotted the TV remote on the glass top of the ebony coffee table and reached out, switching the channel from the primetime news to a cable sports network.

"They're replaying your legendary match," he called, his voice was raised a notch higher than usual so it would get carried all the way to the kitchen.

Of course Tezuka did not yell back. Waiting, Fuji just sat quietly for a while, watching Tezuka lob after lob, serve after serve. His eyes gleamed with pride when Tezuka returned a difficult ball, which would have pelted straight to the corner if not for the Tezuka Zone.

A few minutes later, just as the Tezuka on the TV served for the fifth set, he heard slow, rhythmic footsteps. He turned and grinned at the real Tezuka who nodded in return before setting a tray on the table. He handed one of the two mugs to Fuji, who murmured a quick "Thanks" as he wrapped both his hands around the china.

"Mmm…" Fuji inhaled the strong aroma coming from the coffee, stirring and stirring, watching with childlike amusement as the brown liquid swirled around the silver teaspoon. He took a sip and immediately felt relaxed, his eyes shutting as he sighed. When he opened his eyes, he saw Tezuka watch him thoughtfully. He merely grinned and waved a hand toward the TV screen. "You know, a lot of people think you have perfected your form."

Tezuka glanced at the image of himself jumping up to smash a ball to the opponent's court. He took a sip of his tea before shaking his head. "It's hardly perfect."

The contrast Fuji saw in Tezuka made him smile. Tezuka was a rare concoction of pride and humility. A concoction that other people usually dismissed as plain arrogance because of the confident way Tezuka strode about in a room, because of the way Tezuka held himself back from others.

Fuji took a long sip of coffee and smacked his lips. "I meant to tell you that I got back with my ex."

"Which ex are we talking about here?"

Thinking he heard humor in Tezuka's tone, Fuji glanced up, his brows forming an arch. Seeing Tezuka's mouth upturned at the corners, he realized he was right. "The US Open gave you a sense of humor," he cajoled.

"I've always had that."

Fuji's brows rose even higher in amusement. Although he knew Tezuka did have a sense of humor, he only witnessed it sparingly over the past sixteen years. Tezuka, however, ignored Fuji's teasing smirk and stated, "I meant the question."

Laughing at Tezuka's terseness, Fuji went, "Ichikawa." He straightened up to calm himself and to explain, "You were in Wimbledon when we started dating. I'm sure I told you about him, though."

"Yes, I have. But you—" Tezuka stopped at the sound of a plain ring tone. He excused himself and fished out his mobile phone from the pocket of his jeans. "Hello."

Scooting closer to Tezuka, Fuji said, "Tell Haneul that I'm expecting my kimchi," making sure the person at the other end of the line heard what he said.

"Yes, that was Fuji," Tezuka told his girlfriend. "No, nothing. Wine would be fine. Yes. Yes. Be careful." When the call ended, he placed his phone on top of the coffee table and informed, "She'll be here in ten minutes."

"With the kimchi?" Fuji asked hopefully.

"Yes."

"Great!" Fuji said, beaming from ear to ear. "I'll just grab my kimchi and leave you two alone." He cast his attention back to the TV set, his index finger tracing circles along the mug's rim. "It's a pity she couldn't watch the US Open finals."

"She couldn't help having a family emergency," Tezuka pointed out.

Fuji shrugged. "I know. But it's still a pity. I'm sure she would have loved to be there," he said, leaning against the back cushion as he finished his coffee. "Anyway, I might leave early. I'm going to meet Ichikawa."

The tight, troubled way Tezuka pressed his lips gave Fuji an odd sense of satisfaction. Tezuka was not quite a naïve person. He had slept with Haneul occasionally over the past three years, and he knew that Fuji also occasionally indulged himself with his current boyfriend or girlfriend. But since Fuji first mentioned that he slept with his first boyfriend, Tezuka reacted with a withheld form of perturbation. Fuji liked to think that he had taken Tezuka off-guard and hoped rather mischievously that he had given Tezuka quite a mental picture. He knew for one that although Tezuka was serious and quiet, he wasn't without imagination.

"Why did you and Ichikawa break up?" Tezuka asked suddenly.

Fuji tipped his coffee mug to the right, watching as the dregs slid slowly to the edge. "You know dating. It's a lot like a game. You get tired sometimes so you just have to stop."

"It's a lot different from tennis then."

"For you. You won't stop playing tennis," Fuji chuckled. "But some people will." They both looked up when the doorbell rang. Tezuka got to his feet to open the door while Fuji reached out to turn the TV off. "It's nice to see you again, Haneul," Fuji declared, watching as Haneul pecked at Tezuka's lips for a brief kiss.

Haneul gave a huge shoulder bag to Tezuka and moved to give Fuji a warm embrace. "Yes." Her dark, round eyes studied Fuji for a minute. "Where have you been all year?"

"Oh," Fuji threw his head back, "Everywhere. I hope you brought my kimchi?"

Haneul rolled her eyes. "How can I forget?" She gestured at Tezuka. "Kunimitsu, my bag please." She took a transparent jar that contained very, very red lettuce leaves and proclaimed, "I told Grandma to make it extra spicy, just for you."

"Tezuka, marry her soon," Fuji said with a laugh as they all walked toward the kitchen.

Tezuka's answering frown puzzled Fuji. Usually, when he dropped that joke Tezuka would shake his head, his brown eyes glinting with a hint of entertainment. This time, though, the joke was met with a pensive silence. Fuji wasn't quite sure but he sensed a little tension in this silence as well.

The first to break it was Haneul, who tugged at her bag on Tezuka's hands and brought out two dark food containers. "I brought pasta and grilled chicken. And I bought wine on the way. Would that be enough for us?"

"We're not monsters, are we?" Fuji asked. Haneul just grinned and went about to prepare their dinner.  
Fuji watched Haneul with mild interest and a bit of intrigue. He was sure Haneul had been quick to cover up the silence that erupted earlier. He glanced at Tezuka who was also watching Haneul with a vague expression in his eyes, and then he began to wonder.

Since he first saw Haneul and Tezuka together, he knew they would be perfect together. Her Japanese and Korean blood mixed together and gave her attractive features: sleek black hair, expressive dark eyes, full pink lips and high sophisticated cheekbones. She was a strong-minded woman, driven by her own dreams as an archaeologist, to discover things that would become legends. She obviously had the brains that most of the women who accosted Tezuka lacked so she could actually engage Tezuka in intelligent conversations. She was also a warm, fun-loving, sharp-witted woman who could (Fuji could testify) make Tezuka smile in certain occasions.

Fuji frowned. The last time he had heard of Haneul from Tezuka, he thought everything was fine. He wanted to ask but he decided against it knowing that if Tezuka wanted to tell him, he would.

"Here you go, Fuji," Haneul said, sliding the plate of lasagna toward Fuji.

Hiding his curiosity, Fuji only smiled and accepted the offered food with much thanks.

**2.** Tezuka pressed the doorbell again and waited. He knew Fuji was expecting him so the latter couldn't be out at the moment. Besides, the crack between the floor and the door told him that the light was on, an indication that Fuji was probably inside, preparing or something. He pressed the doorbell for the third time. When, after a couple of minutes, Fuji didn't answer, Tezuka concluded that his friend was probably taking a bath so he turned the doorknob and stepped inside. What he saw made him stop and stare.

The sight of him made the man on the sofa on top of Fuji stare back. Tezuka could see his buttons undone and dearly hoped he couldn't. The stranger's chest had red marks on them, marks that resembled Fuji's hands.

Fuji sat up and smiled calmly, buttoning his own shirt. "Well, Tezuka… meet Ichikawa. Ichikawa, this is my best friend. I'm sure you know him… Tezuka Kunimitsu."

Ichikawa rose and shook Tezuka's hand. Tezuka nodded at him in return. Ichikawa hastily buttoned his shirt and bowed. "It's nice to meet you," he said courteously. "I'll be leaving now." He bent to kiss Fuji and headed for the door.

"Sorry about that. I didn't think you would arrive this early," Fuji said. But he looked far from sorry. His grin was broader than usual that Tezuka suspected Fuji foresaw or maybe even planned this accident.

Tezuka threw Fuji a glare, which Fuji just brushed off with a smile. "Now you've met Ichikawa, what do you think?"

Grunting, Tezuka shook his head. "It's not a good first impression," he muttered curtly. He watched Fuji disappear through the door to the master's bedroom and sank down to an armchair. He knew he should be used to this, seeing Fuji with men, but he couldn't help being bothered. Just a little, though, that he knew he could contain his disapproval of the people that Fuji went out with.

Fuji emerged from the bedroom in a new set of clothes. He nodded, letting Tezuka lead him to the parking lot and to Tezuka's black car. Without so much as a word, Tezuka slipped into the car and, once Fuji was seated beside him, started the engine.

"So quiet," Fuji commented, turning on the radio. The song that was currently playing was unfamiliar to Tezuka, though it didn't surprise him that Fuji hummed slowly with the ballad. "How much taller do you think has Echizen grown over the past year?" Fuji asked offhandedly, his fingers absently drumming on his lap.

"Not much," Tezuka replied truthfully, his eyes fixed on the lamp-lit road ahead. "He would grow slowly until he reaches twenty-five."

"I seem to have stopped growing at seventeen," Fuji said contemplatively.

This time, Tezuka stole a quick glance at Fuji's grinning face. His lips couldn't help curving up. Fuji had never been truly insecure about his height knowing that being short and slender was convenient for someone who had to hide behind thin bushes to take photos of animals in the wild. But the height difference between Echizen and Fuji had become a joke every time they went to one of their get-togethers with their old teammates. "You're just six," Tezuka said seriously. "You have nineteen more years to grow."

"True that." Fuji chuckled to himself.

Tezuka nodded. He drove the car down an old street and parked it in front of a familiar sushi bar. As they stepped inside, loud, friendly voices greeted them. Kawamura, wearing his apron, approached them at once and beckoned them to a large table at the corner. Momoshiro raised his hand in mock salute at the sight of Tezuka. Kaidoh grunted a greeting. Eiji knocked Fuji off-balance with an embrace. Inui nodded his head. Echizen covered his face with his cap. Finally, Oishi who had the most sense to subdue the noise tried to free Fuji from Eiji and asked how Tezuka had been.

Settling on the hassock between Oishi and Fuji, Tezuka told them about his recent experience in Australia, Wimbledon and the US in as much detail as he could. Despite his attachment to peace and quiet, Tezuka found an odd sense of comfort in the company of his old teammates again. Somehow, they reminded him that he really was back in Japan, free from the hustle and bustle of his tight schedule during the tennis season.

When the long discussion about the season (along with several plates of sushi) was over, the conversation turned to more personal topics, such as Kawamura's recent engagement and Momoshiro's new girlfriend.

"Lie," Kaidoh hissed upon hearing Momoshiro's proud declaration. "Who would want to go out with you?"

"Just because no one wants to go out with you—"

Restraining Kaidoh and Momoshiro, Oishi turned to Tezuka. "Aren't you and Haneul planning marriage already?"

Tezuka suddenly stopped chewing and realized his mistake when he caught Fuji's brief gaze. He straightened up and said, "We're both busy with our careers."

**oOo**

Fuji wasn't tactless. He had wanted to ask earlier, the question had lingered in his head for days, but he knew that would be out of line. That he would be breaching a sensitive topic in front of their friends if he had. Instead, he waited till they reached his unit and asked Tezuka to join him in a nightcap. The tone he used was smooth and pleasant so Tezuka would have a hard time saying no.

He chose a bottle of weak wine (around 12 proof) because he knew Tezuka's coach would skin him alive if he got Tezuka drunk and poured some in two separate glasses. He brought them back to the living room where Tezuka sat, looking like he was bracing for an attack.

"Something is bothering you," he said quietly, dropping on the armchair across Tezuka. He held out Tezuka's glass and sipped, smiling contentedly, waiting for an answer. The wine was sweet with a lingering taste of strawberry. He rather liked it and wondered if he should finish this glass before hearing Tezuka out.

Tezuka sipped his wine and pressed his lips to form a grim line. "Haneul has mentioned that she wants to study in Mexico, hasn't she?"

"Yes," Fuji said, swirling his glass of wine. His brows were raised in mild question. "I think it's a great idea."

"It is," Tezuka agreed. "But it will take at least three years."

Fuji stopped swirling his wine and his head perked up quickly. He thought he knew what was coming and he hadn't quite expected this. The last time he had been with both Haneul and Tezuka, they got on pretty fine. Except for that strained moment, he thought they were all right.

"She asked me why we can't get married or at least get engaged yet," Tezuka said slowly. "When I explained that I need to focus on my career first, she understood."  
Fuji drank the rest of his wine and frowned. For two people as logical as Tezuka and Haneul, the solution made sense. But he couldn't help feeling sad; what would happen if feelings changed and Tezuka and Haneul decided to part for good?

**3.** Although Tezuka thought he heard a sound, he dismissed it as a figment of his sleepy mind. It was much too early in the morning, probably just four, and he really didn't think anybody would come visit him at such an ungodly hour. It would have made sense if Haneul were in his apartment he thought, a pang of guilt squeezing his heart. But she wasn't present, would not be in a few years.

Psssssssh.

Tezuka started at the sound of running water. He was sure he had turned the faucets off before he slept. Furrowing his brows, he threw his blanket aside and rose from bed, shirtless on top of a pair of thin flannel pajamas. He first inspected his bathroom but the noise did not come from there. Stiff-legged with sleepiness, he dragged his feet to the kitchen. And then he began to wonder how many more times Fuji planned to take him off-guard for the rest of his life. Or maybe, in order to avoid that, he should just confiscate Fuji's copy of the key to his unit.

"What are you doing here?" Tezuka asked, trying to gain back his normal aloof self despite his bedraggled state.

"I'm making breakfast," Fuji declared matter-of-factly. His hands were busy washing a pile of vegetables. "You're single again. We need to celebrate."

"At four in the morning?" Tezuka did not even try to conceal his disbelief.

Fuji just grinned and moved on to slice the carrots. "I thought a bit of fishing would be a nice way to celebrate."

Tezuka groaned and nodded. There was little he could do when Fuji seemed to have decided everything for the day. Over the past sixteen years, he had known that Fuji could push anyone to do whatever he wanted without really forcing. Even Tezuka was not immune to this hidden talent of Fuji's.

No wonder that day, he pretty much did whatever Fuji asked him to: drive, sit, eat, drink, eat, fish, look away from the camera, fish, look at the camera, look away from the camera. When he arrived home late that night, he confessed that he felt overexerted.

"Did you enjoy, though?" Fuji asked, a friendly smile on his lips.

Tezuka confessed that yes, he did.

**oOo**

Balancing his phone between his ears and his shoulders, Fuji pulled the piles of photographs in front of him, studying them. "Hello?" he said, but his mind was not quite on the person who called. Perhaps, he thought, he should try organizing again. The photographs in front of him were strewn in a cluttered heap… sometimes he found a stray picture or two of Tezuka among the photos of rhinoceroses and water buffalos. He chuckled. The thought was funny, really. But he knew Tezuka would berate him for the nth time for his utter lack of order.

"Fuji, are you listening?"

Fuji blinked. "Yes, I am," he said cheerfully. But even he recognized an impatient edge on his own voice. "No, I can't make it tonight, Ichikawa. I have plans with Tezuka."

"You always have plans with Tezuka."

"I know, I know," Fuji said apologetically. "Well, we're going to play pool today. You can come over if you want."

"I don't."

Fuji stared at his phone, troubled by Ichikawa's sharp tone. He sighed. He had to admit that he had gotten careless over the past few weeks, ignoring Ichikawa's calls and spending more time with Tezuka than he was supposed to. But the guilt wasn't there.

It confused him a little.

**oOo**

Tezuka looked suspiciously at Fuji's rare, unstable form and wondered if Fuji were trying to set him into a trap of sorts. Then again, the stake was just a glass of margarita; it wasn't worth playing dirty tricks for. When Fuji missed the 9 ball, Tezuka frowned and sent it rolling to the nearest hole.

They took the two empty stools in front of the counter and asked for a couple of glasses of frozen margarita. As the bartender prepared their drink, Tezuka eyed Fuji closely. He waited till their drinks were served before he asked frankly, "What's wrong?"

Fuji licked the salt off his wineglass and sipped.

Tezuka's breathe hitched. "What's wrong?"

"I think I need to break up with Ichikawa again," Fuji replied quite flatly. His crinkled eyes hid all the emotions, if there was any, from Tezuka.

A particular scene from a month ago played in Tezuka's mind. He shifted in his seat, the memory too vivid for comfort. "Why? Didn't you just get back with him?"

Fuji let out a laugh. "Really, Tezuka, you should date more often. You should realize that not all relationships last as long as yours and—" His eyes opened for a split second and closed immediately. "Sorry, I did not mean any offense. But, you see, people do get tired of dating sometimes."

"You likened it to tennis," Tezuka noted.

Fuji couldn't help smiling. "Yes, I remember. Some players are fickle-minded. Some people just get tired," he said thoughtfully. "So they need to stop playing. Maybe I should, for the time being."

Tezuka looked at Fuji's half-filled glass of margarita and said, "Finish it."

**oOo**

Honestly, Fuji thought, he had yet to meet someone who was as completely tennis-minded as Tezuka. He had just confessed that he had a problem, something personal, and Tezuka's solution was a game of tennis. It was just a set. Fuji thought that it should have been easy but perhaps he had overestimated his abilities or perhaps he had expected that he and Tezuka would still be equals. Apparently not.

Panting, he crouched beside Tezuka on the ground, his face lit by the lamp post at the corner of the street tennis court. "I think I haven't been playing tennis for a long time."

"Or perhaps you haven't been playing with the right people. Next time, you shouldn't let your guard down," Tezuka said seriously, uncapping his water bottle and chugging down a grateful swig.

Fuji shook his head, laughing. "Tezuka, you are a world champion. I can't beat you."

Tezuka pulled himself up. "Another set."

**4.** Tezuka gulped the food forcefully, reminded once again why he should never let Fuji into his kitchen and that he should never let his guard down around Fuji. The effect of whatever spice Fuji added to the morning soup was immediate: his throat itched, his tongue throbbed, his lips swelled. Trying not to look desperate, he reached for the nearest cup of tea and downed it in one gulp.

His eyes watery with the pain, Tezuka glared at Fuji.

"It's good, isn't it?" Fuji asked innocently.  
"I'm cooking dinner," Tezuka stated. Perhaps living with Fuji again was a terrible idea. Or he could have at least reminded himself of the dangers whenever Fuji lurked in the kitchen and even of the mess wherever Fuji was. But then he couldn't have said no to Fuji's request. The idea had appealed to his sense of logic. After all, they were practically together all the time ever since he became single again.

Fuji just laughed. "Well, you'll have to. I'll be coming home late." He was quick to finish breakfast and left the table to get changed into work clothes. He came back to the kitchen to say goodbye. He bent down and brushed his lips against Tezuka's.

Tezuka stared, his burning lips parted in surprise.

Fuji stared too. But he was the first to recover by laughing. "I'm sorry, it's a reflex. I used to live with—"

But Tezuka had been quick to act. He tugged at the lapels of Fuji's shirt and pulled Fuji to a brief kiss. It was quick and a little impulsive but they both knew it was a kiss.

"I really need to go."

Tezuka watched Fuji's back. He thought Fuji's voice sounded hollow and guarded he began to dread meeting Fuji tonight.

**oOo**

The presentation and the brainstorming for the new project took all day and half the night, and Fuji began to worry. Tezuka hadn't called at all. He knew that he must have sounded court and dismissive this morning but he wasn't angry. He was just surprised. Very surprised. He wanted to know what Tezuka was thinking but he hadn't called Tezuka either because something about phone calls struck him as impersonal. And he was sure what happened this morning should not fall under impersonal.

When his boss told him he could go, he stuffed his things into his bag and drove to Tezuka's apartment. Part of him hoped Tezuka was asleep, but a greater part of him hoped that Tezuka was waiting for him, to talk maybe or to just eat dinner with him.

Blue light and muffled sounds from the TV told him Tezuka had waited for him. "You should have slept," he said, joining Tezuka on the sofa. "Something interesting on the news?"

Tezuka did not say anything for a long, quiet while. When he spoke, he still hadn't answered Fuji's question. "Haneul called."

"Yes?" Fuji asked, his blue eyes revealed a little. "How is she?"

"She asked if we could try again."

Attention glued to the TV screen, Fuji leaned his head back. "Oh, I see," he said. "Perhaps you should. It's a shame if you don't get back together. And maybe I should start dating again. It seems to do me good."

But he knew he was lying. He remembered the pain he had when a doctor pricked his fingertip with a needle to get a blood sample and he thought he was feeling it again. It shot through his entire body quickly and it momentarily stunned him.

"I said no."

Fuji turned to Tezuka.

"Didn't you say dating is like tennis?" Tezuka asked, his face calm, his voice even. "It doesn't help you if you're playing against the wrong opponents."

A bleak smile formed on Fuji's lips. "You think I've been playing with the wrong opponents all along?"

Tezuka did not return the smile. But he said, "Perhaps."

Feeling suddenly childish and gleeful, somewhat like the first time he played against Tezuka in a secret match, Fuji grinned. He moved closer to Tezuka and claimed Tezuka's lips, his tongue wandering, trying to discover the things that he hadn't known about Tezuka yet. Tezuka responded with matching enthusiasm and greed, sucking his tongue and nibbling on his lower lips.

When Tezuka cupped his bum with urgent hands, he pressed closer, moaning into the kiss. But after a minute, his head started to spin so he tore away from Tezuka, watching Tezuka's eyes with a newfound curiosity.

Sometime then, a laugh burst from his throat. Tezuka frowned at him, probably puzzled that he should laugh after their first real kiss.

"What is it?" Tezuka asked, obviously bothered.

Still laughing, he shook his head and yanked Tezuka to him for another kiss. They had been friends for sixteen years now and yet they had never bothered to look at each other the way they saw each other now. There was a capricious almost humorous quality to their situation that he couldn't help but laugh again.

He felt Tezuka's kiss deepen, as if urging him to put his mind on the kiss and on the kiss alone. He smiled, obliging, and tangled his fingers with Tezuka's hair. He thought for a fleeting moment he felt Tezuka's lips curve up at the corners too.

**End**  


_"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend,  
Lucky to have been where I've been,  
Lucky to be coming home again."_  
– Lucky, Jason Mraz feat. Colbie Caillat

******A/N:** **I should be back come Valentine's Day with a better fic. I SHOULD. If you caught a typo, please tell me. In the meantime, I will go back to my lab reports. By the way, I'm sorry if I can't reply to reviews soon. I'm so busy. :(  
**


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